Unhappy Ending
by etherealloveliness
Summary: One-shot. "The surest cure for vanity is loneliness." Rosalie realizes this on her last night as a human, and that even the most beautiful have to pay. Rosalie POV.


"_The surest cure for vanity is loneliness."_

_~Thomas Wolfe_

* * *

I stepped out onto the porch, its light casting shadows to dance on my face. "Good night, Vera," I called, turning back to wave to her. If only we could have more lovely times like this. Vera had always been my good friend and it was nice to take a break from the stress of reality.

A smile lit up her face, and she took Henry from her husband, cradling him in her arms. "Bye, Rosalie!" she said, laughing lightly as Henry tugged on a brown strand of her hair.

A shot of envy ran through me at the sight. I quickly brushed it off, telling myself I would have my happily ever after soon enough. Royce and I would have a mansion, a lovely family, and lots of bubbly, bouncing children just as pretty as Vera's.

Her husband stepped in front of her, looking me in the eyes now. "Rosalie, are you sure you don't need an escort? I would be happy to walk you home." His concern was pure, but I politely declined.

"No, thank you, Richard. It's only a few blocks." He nodded curtly at my reasoning, and bid me good night.

I turned around, but swiftly looked back, opening my mouth to say something.

Richard embraced Vera in a sweet kiss, thinking I wasn't looking. A flash of desire and longing swept through me. Royce never kissed me like that—it wasn't as pure as theirs.

I spun on my heel, a bitter loneliness grasping me. The door shut behind me, a silent signal for me to leave. I hopped nimbly off the front porch and replaced the uncomfortable feeling with the thoughts of my wedding. Vera didn't have as much as I had. . .what did it matter about the way she received a kiss? She would never have as much as I had—Royce was a king, and I would be his queen.

I shivered into my fur coat as I just now realized how cold and dark it was. The street lights were on, bringing some relief to the darkness.

To distract myself from the nipping cold and intimidating blackness, I fantasized about the wedding, only a week away now. Would the weather cause it to be canceled? A scowl touched my face at the thought. I didn't want to move the wedding inside. . .it was supposed to be my fairytale day.

I was almost home when a group of silhouettes came into sight—men under a broken streetlight, laughing in a way that was obnoxious. Fake. _Drunk_.

Why didn't I call Father? He could've just escorted me home. . .

"Rose!" one of the drunks called.

As I walked closer, my raging curiosity driving me, I recognized Royce. The other men—well-dressed—were most likely his friends.

This confused me. Royce never drank in front of me; he said he didn't like champagne. A chill passed through me—he obviously drank something _much_ stronger.

He shouted at me and laughed. "Here's my Rose! You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting so long." I stopped when I came up next to him. I shut my eyes, miserable. This was all just a bad dream.

"What did I tell you, John?" He pulled me by the arm, dragging me closer to him. John. The name was familiar, and I recognized it as the name of Royce's friend that had come up from Atlanta to visit. "Isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?"

John was dark-haired and suntanned, and a curious look crossed his face as he looked me over.

Finally, he spoke. "It's hard to tell," he slurred. "She's all covered up."

My stomach dropped, and I tried to pull away. Royce pulled me closer, allowing him to get a firmer grip on me.

Laughing drunkenly, Royce ripped my fur coat that he had got me off my shoulders. The beautiful brass buttons bounced on the ground, rolling on their sides out on the street.

"Show him what you look like, Rose!" he crowed, yanking my hat off. The pins yanked some of my hair out. I screamed out, and they howled with laughter.

They seemed intrigued with by my pain.

Royce ripped off the rest of my clothes, pinching me and hitting me all the while. "Isn't she beautiful?" he drawled to his friends. I shivered and tried desperately to cover up myself.

"Oh no you don't!" Royce and his friends laughed. Goosebumps covered my skin as Royce shoved himself into me. This wasn't a fairytale, this was a cruel nightmare that I couldn't escape from.

After that I didn't dare speak; my voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

Royce pushed me to the ground and pain ripped through my body as it thumped against the sidewalk. No one heard me. Why? _Why?_ My King was punishing me, and what for? Tears fell down my cheeks.

* * *

I felt a lot of pain that night.

Eventually, they left, stumbling away. Light snow started to fall, and my tangled hair covered my bloody lip and black eye. My beauty was tarnished. I couldn't explain this to my father. And what would society think? My reputation would be ruined. If I even managed to make it, which I doubted. It would better if I could die now.

My breath came slower, just a whisper on the wind.

I wasn't sure how long I wallowed in the terrible pain. My impatience grew; I clenched my teeth together.

_Why wasn't I dying?_

I trembled from the cold, and a teardrop trickled slowly down my cheek. My voice was raspy as I sobbed, my body shaking.

I wasn't going to be a queen, after all.

Mercifully, I felt cold hands pick me up. I didn't open my eyes for fear of what I would or would not find. Was it an angel, come to rescue me from my fate? From Death himself? I flew with the night air as I rose through the clouds.

Or so I thought.

Then the burning began as I traveled downward to the fiery depths of Hell, being punished for my vanity.


End file.
